Returned
by Gleek4
Summary: After being gone for eleven years, Kurt is finally returned to place he called home, but nothing is as it once seemed. Finn and the rest must adapt to his new personality as Kurt must adapt to his new world.
1. Chapter 1

_New chapters for Wings and Oz are underway as well as a new Monfer fic._

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><p><em><em>

_Aching within his chest was his heart which had finally registered that he was alone while he sat stunned in a hard yellow hospital chair listening to the flat line of his wife's monitor. _

_The last words of his wife still flowed through his mind. _

"_Don't give up on him, Burt. Please, never stop searching for my precious child." She cried softly, never had she imagined that her beautiful baby would be snatched, taken for her by a stranger. "When I leave, I will not find him in heaven. He's not gone; he's somewhere out there without his mommy and daddy."_

"_I promise. I'll search for him myself if I have to. I love you so much." His voice cracked while tears jumped to his own eyes._

"_I love you, sweetheart," she murmured clinging to his hand weakly. His heart sped while her eyes began to glaze over. "He's not up there," she whispered. "My baby…."_

_Then she was gone leaving behind her husband. Alone. _

_****_

_**Eleven Years Later**_

"Good morning," Carole kissed Burt's cheek lightly, and he smiled in return. She went back to the stove where she was making pancakes for her son, Finn.

A clatter followed by a curse came from the living room. Burt sighed but chuckled making his way into the other room, but his stomach dropped when he saw his step-son and his friend, Puck, holding a football. On the hearth sat a picture frame which lied on its face. Scattered broke glass was strewed.

"Sorry, Burt, I'll clean it up," Finn went to reach out for the frame, but the men hurried forward.

"Don't touch it," he murmured, and Finn flinched back for he had never heard the man speak so softly. With wary hands, Burt brushed away the glass staring into his lost child's face beaming up at him.

"Are- are you alright?" Finn's voice was only a blur in the man's mind, and he made his way to the door.

"I'm going to head to the garage and check up on things," he murmured pocketing the photo.

Finn looked to Puck who shrugged before following him into the kitchen.

"Mom, I don't understand."

Puck clapped a hand on his friend's back, grabbed a pancake straight off warm plate, thanked Carole, and left the mother and son to talk.

"Who is the boy in the picture?"

Carole frowned deeply; she remembered very clearly how she had met Burt. She had been a friend of Karen's, and when the women died, Burt turned to only an empty shell. Without telling her son, he rehabilitated the man with cooking and sweet encouraging murmurs. When Finn was a teenager, Carole and Burt began to date. A few years later, they were married. It wasn't they had been dating that he revealed the mystery behind the picture.

Carole's heat broke over the story of the lost child, and she prayed with all her might that one day, he could miraculously appear.

"Mom?" The woman snapped out of her thoughts and smiled kindly towards her son.

"Sweetie, if you want to know, you are going to asked Burt. It's just not my place to tell you." She kissed his head before shoving the steaming plate of pancakes his way which he eagerly took nearly forgetting the picture all together when syrup plastered his meal.

But Finn didn't remain innocent for long; as soon as he had swallowed the last of his breakfast, Finn snuck down to the basement where he was sure Burt must have hidden some pictures. Dust covered the room for people rarely went to the basement. A bed, still covered in a pale comforter, matched the noir walls.

The boy shifted uncomfortably in the room as if he was invading someone's privacy, as if someone had lived here.

Looking under the bed, low and behold there was a brown rectangular box coated in a layer of film. Inside were tightly packed pictures, and Finn grabbed a small stack. The top picture was of a woman. The ocean was held in her wide blue eyes, and a brown loose braid rested on her shoulder. Her hands were delicately sitting atop of her round large stomach.

Finn turned to the next photo; it was the small background except a young Burt was present, and he rested his ear on the round belly.

Finally, at the bottom of the stack, Finn found what he had been looking for. The young boy, whose wide eyes full of amazement matched his mother, was held in thin arms.

Grabbing the box, Finn returned back upstairs to the kitchen. "Mom, I found-

When Carole saw the brown box that she hadn't seen since Burt told her about his lost child in the hands of her son, she swiftly plucked it from his hands. "Finnegan, what have I told you about going through other people personal items?"

"Mom, we live here now. Burt's my step-father! There is a woman in these pictures…"

"Honey, Burt was married before me, and you know this."

"Why does he have pictures hidden away like porn?"

"Finnegan! Burt's wife died of cancer eleven years ago." Carole looked down ashamed; she wanted Burt to be the one to tell Finn when he was ready. The boy went silent taking the box back from his mother, and he left the room to place it back where he found it but not before pocketing a wallet sized photo of the mystery boy smiling and holding on to his own small feet.

When Burt left the house early that morning, he was well aware that the shop was closed on Sundays. Instead, he went to the cemetery.

"I'm sorry, Karen. I nearly blocked it from my mind after the news papers stopped printing missing articles of him and the pictures became out-dated. Some days I pray that you are holding his tiny body in your arms so I know that is no way he would be suffering."

Snow drifted around Burt, and he pulled his jacket closer to his body. Finally, he turned away from grave, his heart aching.

When he came home, Carole engulfed him in her arms. He took comfort in her hold for a moment before heading up to the shared room between him and his wife.

Burt dreaded the days ahead. December sixteenth, the day his child was stolen from him, was nearly upon him, and Burt stared absentmindedly at the basketball game on television.

The garage was a blessing around this time every year; it gave him a place to escape and to reflect for his son.

Burt and Carole had once talked about explaining what had happened to Finn, but the man did not wish to burden Finn with such knowledge.

When finally the day arrived, snow blocked the driveway, and Burt was unable to get away from the house like he had planned.

Finn stared down at his homework intensely figuring there was nothing else to do other than watch the pre-game. Before long, Finn found himself staring out into the blizzard, and in the gusts of blurred white was a clouded silhouette

"Burt, I- I think there might be someone outside."

The man was out the door so fast that the door didn't both to close the door behind him. There, next to the mailbox, sat a boy in the snow. His eyes were covered by a thin cloth as well as his mouth, and behind his back his hands were held tied together with restraints.

Bone chilling wind danced playfully through the shaggy uncombed brown tresses, but the boy remained deadly still.

"My baby, my baby!" Freezing tears washed the man's cheeks, and he picked the boy up and carried him into the house.

Burt ripped the cloth from his child's face, but terrified eyes stood behind it. "Kurt, you're home. I- I thought I'd never see you again." He sobbed shameless, and Finn stared silently form the corner of the

Glistening blue orbs stared directly forward as if trained to remain on a straight path, but Burt gently cupped the hollow cheeks.

"It's me, Kurt. It's daddy," he sobbed, and the boy's eyes began to search the man's face. "Do you recognize me?" Slowly, the boy nodded, and Burt jolted forward to clutch to his son. Kurt, however, flinched back as of an automatic response before slightly leaning further into his father's arm though his own did not return the hug.

Finn dashed silently from the room entering the kitchen to speak with his mother. "Mom, the boy…he's here. I don't understand."

Explaining to her son the seriousness of the situation was the last thing on Carole's mind, and she crept silently from the kitchen to peek in on the scene. But all she saw were confused ocean deep eyes staring up at here from over Burt's shoulder.

Suddenly, Burt's arms were painfully empty as pieces of his heart were ripped away with his son who scrambled on his hands and knees toward the door.

Tears swarmed Carole's eyes for so many questions invaded her mind. What kind of terrible person would _train _an innocent to crawl as if he were an animal?

Kurt clawed at the door, and Burt wrapped his arms around his boy to tug him away from the door to reveal bloody scored marks scarred into the wood.

"We are going to go to the hospital, Kurt," the father whispered gently rocking the terrified child in his arms.

"Burt, we are completely snowed in. There is no way you are ever going to get out of-

"I'll carry him there if I have to," he murmured continuing to sway back and forth. "Finn, please, help me shovel get the car out. Please."

Finn nodded and hurried outside trying to process the events of the still early day.

"Come on, we're going to fix you up," Burt assisted his son, who seemed reluctant to get in, to the car. Carole and Finn sat together in the back, and the mother slipped a twenty dollar bill into her son's hand.

"Thank you," she whispered, "for being such a god sport. You'll understand everything soon."

Kurt allowed his father to guide him into the white clinic. Nurses bustled around the poor boy, and he appeared be in panic when one rolled the sleeve of his dirtied bland sweat-shirt up so an IV could be hooked up. Lines of scars were revealed, and the entire room seemed to gasp.

"Sir, we are going to have to perform a rape kit."

Burt nodded and turned to his son. "Son, the people here are going to help you. No one is going to hurt; they are just going to check how badly hurt you are."

It physically hurt Burt to see his son leave the room, and he dropped his head into his hands.

"Burt?" The man raised his head to see Finn front and center. "Please, I don't understand."

"At age six, he was kidnapped." Finn's stomach dropped for that had been the very last thing he had expected, and Carole placed a soothing hand on the man's shoulder.

"He's home now, and that's all that matters. We are going to take care of him."

The room remained silent though hundreds of question flooded the minds of the three family members, and finally, Kurt wobbled back into the room pale-faced.

"Mr. Hummel, may I speak with you?" A nurse pulled the man aside, and Kurt was left in the room with the family he never met.

"Sir, there had been critical damage down to your son. After eleven years, we expected it, but there are tares obviously from being raped as well as heavy scarring. Whoever hand him must have had a thing for inflicting pain. PTSD is expected, and a counselor is highly recommended after a few weeks of recovering. Your boy is severely under weight and is suffering from malnutrition. We don't advise you feed him too much meat at a time because his stomach won't be able to handle it."

Burt nodded soaking in as much information as he possibly could at a time, and when he reentered the room, he saw what was really wrong.

Hollow cheeks and darkly shadowed eyes illuminated his facial appearance. The tattered cloth hung from his body like a rag, and dusty rose scars lines his thin boney arms. Cadaverous skin clung to his skeletal body, and the boy gazed down aimlessly without focus. '_Much like a lifeless creature,' _Burt thought to himself.

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	2. Chapter 2

__Characters belong to RIB.

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><p>"Now sir, if you have any questions, feel free to call," an elderly nurse murmured to Burt while he led his son out of the hospital the day.<p>

Throughout the entire car ride, Kurt stared at his bandaged fingertips unfamiliar to the soft gauze remembering how never before had a cut, wound, or injury been tended to.

"Kurt?" The boy turned his head automatically towards his father for someone was calling his attention. "We're home. Are you hungry?"

Kurt made no gesture signaling a yes or no. Unwilling to push his son, Burt sighed softly and led his boy inside. Together, they entered the kitchen, and when Burt turned his back, Kurt sunk down onto his knees while his father pulled out lunch meat from the refrigerator.

For the umpteenth time within the past day, tears leapt to the father's eyes when he saw his precious on the floor like an animal, and he rushed to his son's side pulling him up from the floor.

"You never have to kneel for anyone ever again," he murmured clutching his boy to his chest, but when he pulled back, he noticed how confusion filled the blue eyes.

"Burt?" The man looked up see Finn staring at the situation on hand. It was obvious that he had no idea had to hand the circumstances, and he shifted uncomfortably.

"Kurt, I want you to meet someone." Burt, with a hand remaining on his son's shoulder, forced Kurt to face Finn. "This is your step-brother, Finn. You two will be sharing a room for a short amount of time while we update Finn's."

The silent boy flinched, looked to his father obvious stress apparent on his face, and grabbed a pen and the pad of paper of the counter to write.

_Mommy? _

Burt's heart clenched. He had expected Kurt to ask about her one day, but he didn't anticipating it to be neither soon nor as painful as it was proving to be for he began to choke. "Not long after you were…taken, the cancer spread to her liver, and her body shut down. She died, Kurt, but she loved you so much."

Though tears welled in his innocent eyes, the boy did not shed a tear. Instead, he turned his eyes to the floor.

"It's okay to cry," Burt whispered which must have surprised the boy because his eyes returned to the confused state. _'How long has it been since he cried? Or was he forbidden to cry?' _

Carole, coming home from a long day of work, sighed pulling her coat closer to her body as she walked through the strong wind from her car to the house.

Still in the kitchen, they stood, but when the door opened harshly due to the gusting winds, Kurt was obviously signaled for he dropped instantly to the floor despite all his father had previously stated.

Finn was startled, and he backed away from the boy who held his head low concentrating on the tiles beneath him.

"Kurt, please stand up." His voice was meek, but his son scrambled off the floor. "Easy, it's okay," Burt murmured balancing his boy.

When the mother entered the kitchen, she could easy tell there had been a disturbance, but she smiled kindly despite the thick tension. "Kurt, is there something in particular you would like for dinner?"

It was clear that Kurt wasn't used to being asked what he wanted, and he lowered his head further. "Sweetie, do you like chicken?"

Kurt nodded. "Finn, I need to talk to you." Carole and Finn waited for Burt to usher his son out of the kitchen. "Please, let him share a room with you for a while. We'll figure something out soon."

"Mom, there is no room left in my-

"Which is why we are going to move your bed frame and mattress down to the basement temporarily," Carole finished. "I promise that I won't ask for much, but please, Burt and I don't want him to have to be alone at night."

Finn was obviously losing his case, so he agreed to move into the basement. While his mother finished dinner, Finn moved his bed down to the basement.

After he was settled in, Finn loaded a plate with fried chicken and rice.

"Take as much as you want," Carole smiled, and Kurt shyly place a hunk of meat onto his plate along with a small scoop of rice. "Is that all you're going to eat? Take some more," she cajoled.

Finally, Kurt had almost as much food on his plate as Finn. The boy ate politely eating all of the food on his plate, and though he did not verbally speak, the 'thank you' was clear in his eyes.

"Kurt, come on down to your room." The boy did as he was told and followed his father and Finn down to the basement. It was just as he remembered excluding the newly added bed. "Finn is going to be staying down here with you until you are comfortable. Is this okay?"

The boy stepped forward and placed a hand on the freshly washed comforter before nodding.

"Son, I'm so glad you are home," Burt's voice was gentle and choked, and Finn had to look away from the tender moment while the father embraced his son once more, asked if he needed anything, and left the room.

Kurt sat soundless on his bed staring down at his palms.

Finn, still mind blown from the entire situation, logged onto the computer, shot straight to Google, and typed in Kurt Hummel's name. Being Goggle, thousands of links appeared providing the Facebook page of Kurt Hummel's from around the world, but Finn clinked on the very first link which led to his local newspaper.

On the front cover of the digitalized copy was the innocent child's face whose eyes held all the amazement and wonders of the world. Peeking over his shoulder, he saw that the boy had neither moved from his spot nor lifted his head.

Returning to the post he read on.

_Kurt Hummel, a boy at the age of six, was snatched from his parents at the Lima mall. He has been described as being two and half feet tall, having bright blue eyes, and having brown hair. The Hummels' child was taken on December sixteenth while they were Christmas shopping. Burt Hummel reported that he had chased after a beige beaten van without a back license plate where he had seen a dark haired man run with his child. Two days later, the van was located in Lafayette Township deserted with no signs of a trace. If anyone spots Kurt Hummel, please call the authorities immediately._

Finn felt repulsed, and he glanced back at the abnormally silent boy to see that he no longer sat on the bed but instead sat with his legs tucked beneath him on the floor. Warily, Finn approached him, but Kurt didn't raise his head staring at Finn's unmatched sock clad feet.

"Your father said you didn't have to kneel on the floor," he murmured.

'_But I'm not kneeling," _Kurt thought, _'I'm suppose to sit like this. If I don't, I'll get in trouble…' _A shiver ran up his spine, and Finn took notice in the jerky movement.

"Are you cold?" He asked, but the boy, of course, remained silent. So, Finn took it upon himself to fetch a blanket which had been slung over the couch's arm and wrapped it around Kurt.

Hesitantly, Kurt raised his head, and Finn finally met the wide blue oceanic eyes he had seen in the pictures, but this…this wasn't the same smile child being held by his mother. Almost grey empty yet filled with confusion eyes stared blankly at him. A subtle 'thank you' seemed to be present, but Finn couldn't be quite sure.

He stood up from his crouching position and stretched a hand out to the other. "It's okay to take my hand, I'll help you up," Finn sighed slightly frustrated when Kurt simply gazed confusedly at the hand. "Do you want to play video games with me?" Finn smiled widely at the thought of having a constant opponent rather than waiting for Puck to come over or playing against computer zombies.

The boy, however, gazed down at his feet before shuffling over to where Finn had sat on the couch. Just as he was about to seat himself on the floor, two large hands touched base on his shoulders. Automatically, he tensed waiting for a command.

"Relax, Kurt," Finn soothed pulling him onto the sofa. So, Kurt sat huddled in his blanket curled up at the end of the couch while Finn lost track of the time killing off zombies nearly forgetting about the boy next to him due to the eerie silence.

That was until a gently snore alert Finn of another's presence, and something pressed against him. Homophobia spiked when Finn turned his head to see the innocent face resting on his shoulder, and he jerked away nearly violently.

The sudden movement shook Kurt awake, and the boy's eyes widen scurrying away, he scrambled down to the floor. Homophobia pierced deeper and the silent boy pressed his face into the plush carpet lifting his ass up for display.

Finn's throat went dry as he attempted to yell, "B- Burt!" The father was rushing down the stairs in a matter of minutes, but Finn ran from the room without looking back at the scene behind him.

"Mom, please don't make me share a room with him," Finn pleaded helplessly to his mother who idly dried off a pan from dinner. "He freaked out, went to the floor, and put his butt in the air!"

"Sweetheart, you need to understand that Kurt is not going to act like a teenager. We aren't even sure what level of education he is currently at. Think about what you would be like if you were him. That poor child has been through hell; you can't suddenly expect him to come home smiling. He was taught how to behave from disturbed people…" her voice trailed off. Carole had no desire to imagine what kind of torture Kurt had been forced through.

Burt appeared a minute later. "He's asleep," he murmured wringing his hands nervously. "I'm sorry about all of this, Finn, but please try to be gentle with him. He really means no harm."

Exhaustion began to settle in from the long day, so Finn snuck back down to his room avoiding anything that would cause the other to wake up. Without so much as a thought to the boy in the bed adjacent to his own, Finn fell into a dreamless sleep where he stayed until a whimper woke him.

Though there no windows to allow light into the room, as Finn squinted in the dark room, he saw alabaster skin that nearly glowed.

Skin stretched unnaturally over ribs, yellowing bruises littered across skin, and scars stood out on the pale skin.

For the third time in the same day, homophobia reared its ugly head pushing Finn to the back of the headboard of his bed. _'Holy shit, what the fuck is happening. Oh God, he's naked in front of my bed. _

Finn jumped out of his bed as if it were a bed of hot coals scurrying up the stairs as fast as he could without falling over his clumsy two feet without looking back at the spin that appeared to be ready to burst forth from his skin covered by the horrid marks.

"Mom!" He was nearly screaming at this point disturbed by the scene he had just witnessed. Burt appeared first, shaking the boy by the shoulders. "Get a hold on yourself, Finn! What happened?"

"He- he was naked sitting in front of my bed," unexplainable tears rushed to his eyes then down his cheeks, but Burt brushed past the emotional boy. Carole rushed to her son, and he wrapped himself around her taking in every ounce of comfort available.

"It's okay, sweetie. Come upstairs; you can sleep up here for the night. We'll talk more in the morning." Finn followed his mother to bed.

Though Finn slept next to his protective mother, every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was the milky white disfigured body.

The morning after, Carole woke before her son, and she went straight down to the basement where she knew her husband would be consoling his tortured child. Just as she had predicted, Burt rested on the sofa turned toward the bed which his son resided in.

The woman silently approached the bed to look upon the child. Brushing back the brown tresses, she soothingly stroked her thumb across his forehead as she would Finn when he was a distressed child. Carole frowned, the boy was sixteen yet he looked a much younger age.

Hoping to let the two rest a little longer, Carole kissed Burt on the cheek and proceeded up the stairs in order to begin breakfast. Finn appeared at the bottom of the stairs after the smell of bacon filled the kitchen and wafted to the second floor.

In the same manner as a small child, Finn tugged on his mother's hand pleadingly. "Please, don't make me share a room with him. He's- he's a freak, Mom. It's scary."

"Don't say those things about my son!" Burt yelled as he walked into to the kitchen. "He doesn't know any better."

"He's an animal, Burt!" Finn raised his voice despite Burt's fierce appearance.

"He was taught that way!" They were shouting now, and Carole turned back to her cooking biting her lip hoping that they would cease soon enough. "You can't expect him to break old habits in one day after eleven years."

As if to emphasize Finn's point, though Burt never denied it, Kurt climbed up the stairs on his hands and knees, brown hair falling in his eyes. The three standing in the kitchen waited silently for Kurt to make his own path, and the boy stood once he was at the top of the stairs.

He past Finn and Carole with his head bowed, and he approached his father taking the man's hands into his own. Eyes met, and the boy's eyebrows furrowed while shining eyes penetrated his father's.

Though his eyes clearly made the statement, Kurt's mouth gapped before silently mouthing the words _'I'm sorry.'_

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><p>Please Review<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Happy New Year! Please pardon the mistakes, I'll fix them tomorrow.

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><p>Finn felt like shit for the rest of the day for the way he had reacted towards Kurt, but he didn't understand how anyone would have responded any differently than he had. After the incident in the kitchen, Finn fled to Puck's house.<p>

"Dude, you'll never believe what happened," Finn mumbled, eyes focused on the gun his character on the television screen was holding. "Remember the boy in the picture we knocked over with the football? It turns out that he is Burt's son who was kidnapped. Yesterday, he appeared outside, and he's total freak."

The game was paused by Puck who turned with a gapping mouth.

"He's like a fucking animal though, crawling on the floors and kneeling. I woke up during the night to see him sitting naked at the end of my bed!" Finn reiterated the events.

"That's fucked up…" Puck's mind reeled as scenarios filmed behind his eyes. "Is he okay?"

Finn frowned; the revealing the horrors of his night was suppose to gain the sympathy of the friend, but Puck seemed more concerned for the silent teen residing at home.

"Shouldn't you be watching over him?" Finn's frown drooped further. Truth be told, he should have been watching Kurt.

Finn protested instead. "It's scary, dude! He doesn't even speak."

"You should go home and see if your mom needs any help. It can't be easy for him to adjust so quickly, and I'll even come with you if you want me to."

Realizing having Puck with him would be better than going along, Finn agreed and drove them back to his home.

Kurt sat contiguous to his father, staring at the television emotionless to the game which his father seemed to be so into. When Burt moved with the players ran the basketball was passed down the court, Kurt moved along with him.

The door entered, and Kurt automatically tense, sliding down onto the floor before Burt gently hoisted him back up onto the couch without a second thought. Finn appeared in the room, and Kurt relaxed significantly.

Then, the mohawk-haired boy appeared, and Kurt's hand tightened around his father's arm. "What is it, Kurt?" Burt instantly gave his son his undivided attention, but he was only met with wide frantic eyes. Burt followed the eyes to where Finn and Puck stood in the entranceway.

'_Daddy, help me! He's coming back for me; he'll never let me go. Why aren't you doing anything?' _Kurt's mind raced as he pleaded with his father until he realized that the words screaming in his head never made it to the tip of his tongue.

Seeing that his father was not standing to protect him, Kurt scrambled away from the boys but failed to get far when he realized that the boys were blocking the exit despite the fact that he knew punishment would be delivered later that evening. It had been years since Kurt had disobeyed his masters, but when he had there was always a resulting penalty. However, Kurt was with his father, the one place he thought was safe, but the man was still there haunting him.

The gauze on his newly wrapped fingers tore as well as the flesh of his hands as they scratched at the brick hearth, beating irrationally at the wall which refused to give way.

Voices broke through his thick haze, and he turned in panic at the scene of several pairs of hands reaching blurrily out to him until his felt them grasping onto him.

Darkness crashed down onto him, and Kurt fell limply towards the floor before Puck caught him. Burt hurried to take his son, who felt much too light for a teenage boy. Sitting down on the couch with his son cradled in his arms, Burt gently rocked him as if he were an infant.

"I'm so sorry, Burt. I had no idea he was going to react like that," Puck murmured in a very uncharacteristic tone, and he looked down at the paled boy. "Was he that violent when meeting Finn?"

Burt shook his head; he couldn't think of a single explanation as to why Kurt had panicked when seeing Puck. According to the doctor, the only reason Kurt had had a fit of frenzy when being home for the first time was due to the sudden change from what he remembered in the past.

"Would you prefer if I went home?" Burt shook his head again, and Finn dragged Puck down to the basement to play videogames.

When Kurt woke, calloused hands moved along the length of his arm while being rocked. Though no one saw his eyes, blue orbs hazed over as he drifted back.

_Groggily, he opened his eyes aware of the hand stroking the naked flesh of his shoulder. Hot breath poured across his ear. "Awake, are you? Excellent…" _

"Are you feeling okay?" His father's safe voice broke through his faze, and he nodded cautiously. Kurt tugged away after a minute and confirmed the action as okay when he father nodded before going off to the restroom. After relieving himself, Kurt looked around the room for cameras.

_At age eight, he showered, attempting to wash away the grim of hands when a black object caught his eyes. Nearly positive that he knew what the object was, Kurt covered his wet naked body with his hands ashamed._

Burt waited for his son to renter the room before leading him back to the bathroom. Confusion filled the boy's eyes, but Burt turned the water of the shower to a warm inviting temperature.

"Take as long as you need, and I'll get you some of Finn's clothes to wear until we get you some new clothing."

Despite his father's words, Kurt lowered his eyes to the tiled floor as he worked the dirty hoodie from his body. A light rose hinted the pale gaunt cheeks, but he froze in shock when he was gripped tight by the arms and drug into an embrace.

Words were not exchanged, and Burt left his son to clean himself.

Trudging up the stairs to Finn's room, he heard Puck and Finn arguing subtly, and the topic was obviously Kurt. Burt brushed off his anger and rapped on the door.

"Finn, do you have an old shirt and a pair of sweatpants Kurt can borrow for the time being while we get a wardrobe?"

The boy nodded and trifled through his dresser and handed off a pair sweats and his old McKinley High football shirt.

While Burt exchange a small thanks, Kurt stood allowing the hot water beat at his worn body. His guarded eyes flashed from corner to corner searching for the black hidden camera, but only white tile connected the wall to the ceiling.

Hands scraped harshly against flesh as the young boy scrub the no longer there grim from his body for he still felt dirty. A subtly knock startled him, and he hurried to cover his body. A sigh of relief brush over his lip when he heard the safe voice of his father before he straightened, looking around rapidly to see if anyone had seen his movement.

But there was no one.

Burt stood by the door until it swung open revealing Kurt who was thankfully covered. "I brought you some clothing."

"_We're going shopping today. If you keep wearing the same thing, someone may recognize you." _

"Kurt?" The boy's head snapped up to might his eye line. "How are you feeling?" Hope filled Burt as he watched his lips part slightly but only to close tight. "Please say something, anything."

Kurt frowned, eyebrows knitted, and he tensed automatically when large worn hands gripped his shoulders.

"Why did they take you? Please, Kurt, I need to hear you speak – to hear your voice after eleven years." Kurt cowered, and he proceeded to shut his eyes waiting from his beating for flinching away. "Here," Burt mumbled releasing his son's shoulders embarrassed of his sudden behavior, "these are for you."

He thrust the clothing into his boy's arms and headed for the kitchen where he would allow a moment of weakness and rest in his wife's arms.

Kurt dressed hastily – his normal routine. It was familiar; it, safe. Looking once in the mirror, Kurt appreciated the gift he had been given. Warm clean clothing surrounded him as well as a dazing musk hidden within the fibers.

When he exited the bathroom, he looked around for one of the masters of the home, but no one was to be seen. Confusion struck him hard for Kurt's mind raced attempting to think of a simple task – any task – that would please the masters of the home. Finding nothing that could be done, he went to his father's side and slumped down into a poised position with his head down hoping for only a light beating for not accomplishing a chore.

"Please don't sit like that," Burt voice was soft, and he helped his son off the floor. "Do you want to watch television with me?"

Watching television was a privilege, and the boy was once again confused for he had nothing to earn such a high reward.

"Kurt, would you like to help with dinner?" A sweet, calming, womanly voice called from the kitchen effectively luring Kurt to her for he wished to finish his tasks quickly.

A knife, a too familiar utensil to Kurt, was placed in his hand, and he looked to her for guidance as to want she wished of him with the sharp weapon.

"Do you mind cutting up the apples? I think perhaps it would be nice to make a pie." A silent sigh of relief relaxed Kurt when a timid hand rested on his shoulder. The shyness calmed Kurt for never before had a man or woman placed a hand on him that wasn't either strong or forceful.

"It's okay, Kurt," she murmured, and even though neither had any idea what the words were referring to, comfort eased throughout the room.

Carole watched in surprise as Kurt finished cooking most of the meal despite the fact she had never asked him to do more. "Thank you," she pitched her voice happy trying her hardest to make his situations as normal as she could – or normal to her anyway.

Finn rushed to the dinner table followed by Puck, who ended up staying into the evening, when the smell of sweet apple pie filled the house.

"Mom," Finn mumbled, mouth full of the delicious dessert, "it's so awesome."

"Kurt made it," Finn's chewing faltered at his mother's response, but he resumed with a slower pace. Carole obviously noticed her son's sudden discomfort despite that fact that he had nothing to worry about, so she hurried to change the subject. "Finn, honey, did you finish your homework? Don't forget you have exams on Wednesday before Christmas break."

Finn's guilty, gassy, infant look gave him away, and Carole turned to Puck. "You are welcome anytime during break, but I want Finn to study tonight."  
>Puck thanked her for the meal, but he turned to Kurt who stared strictly down at his plate. "Thank you, Kurt, for the pie. It was amazing."<p>

The silent boy listened keenly on the voice which spoke to him, and he slowly realized that the tone was different than…_him, _the one who took him.

Kurt remained at the table until everyone else left excluding Burt. "You don't have to stay at the table and wait for everyone else to leave," he mumbled, ruffling his hair. Clearing the table seemed to be his purpose for staying, and he washed every plate, fork, and spoon.

"Thank you, Sweetie," Carole murmured as she entered the kitchen. "You didn't have to, but thank you."

Kurt nodded and retired to the shared bedroom where he found Finn twirling a pencil between his fingers while humming to an unfamiliar tune. As quiet as he was the bottom stairs squeaked when Kurt stepped on it, and Finn's head snapped up. Kurt quickly dropped his head waiting for his slap for calling attention to himself.

As he stood rigid, Finn finally got a good look at him. His clothing draped around his tiny frame, his arms scattered with scars, his neck was thin like the rest of his body, and a barely seen scar traced along his neck.

When no slap, beating, or scolding came, Kurt looked up beneath his bangs to see Finn examining him from across the room. "You can sit down, you know. It's not like I'm going to hurt you."

"_Don't worry, little one, I'm not going to hurt you," he whispered sickly in his ear. Three years later, the man patted the sobbing boy's head. "There there, little one, you'll get used to it. You'll be begging for it in no time…"_

"Dude, what the fuck is your problem?" Finn's yelled startled Kurt out of his flashback, and the harsh tone sent him flying towards his bed where he hurried to take a seat as he had been told. Scooting back to make himself more comfortable, Kurt leaned heavily against the headrest where he stared at the stairs.

"Aren't you tired?" Finn snapped, and Kurt looked around cautiously trying to figure out if he was allowed to answer before nodding. "Then why don't you go to sleep?"

Kurt snuggled down under the blankets, and the clothing proved to serve well as pajamas considering their large size.

Finn attempted to study awhile longer until he heard Kurt's breath even out because there was no way in hell he was going to wake up to the horror he did the previous night. As quietly as a large boy such as Finn could, he crossed the room to light switch off, but on his way back to his bed, Finn stumbled his toe on the edge if Kurt's bed, bending back his tiny toe which, realistically speaking, wasn't all that tiny.

"Shit," he mumbled biting into his lip attempting to silence himself, but Kurt jolt straight out of his bed. "Go back to bed," Finn growled, voice coming out to aggressive due to the pain which still throbbed subtle through his toe.

Kurt scurried back into his bed as he was commanded – a natural reaction for him; it gave him a sense of familiarity. He could still sense the watching of eyes, a feeling he had grown accustom to, on him, and the fact made him shake with uncertain on whether he was about to receive punishment or not despite Finn's words of no threat.

After making his way safely to his bed, the grumbling boy tossed until he faced away from and Kurt, and allowed his eyes to close only when he was sure the other boy was asleep.

_"I'll never let you go," he hissed in Kurt's ear, "and if you ever try to escape me, I'll find you; it doesn't matter where you are, I'll find you." Teeth bit down hard on his cartilage, eliciting a whimper of pain while a soft drop of blood smeared down his lobe, scaring his cartilage with a small dash. _

Kurt woke with a jerk, looking around rapidly to see that he was safe in his bed. Nearly snapping his neck to the side, Kurt noticed that Finn was still asleep and sighed in relief. Looking around the dark room, he assumed that he must have been still late at night, so he closed his eyes to rest. But as soon as his lids covered his grey sleep deprived eyes, the man reappeared, arms encasing his body so realistic Kurt could feel his cold embrace nearly strangling him of breath.

So he kept his eyes open and stared blankly at the safe noir walls, fighting to keep his eyes awake. And when morning finally arrived, Finn grumbled, rolling over still dazed with sleep when spotted Kurt, wide-eyed with deep purple bags under his eyes and sitting up staring at the wall ahead. Thinking back to the previous night, Finn  
>started to finally realize that whatever had happened to Kurt was going to be rough for the entire family to deal with. <p>

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><p><em>Please Review! If any of you have any questions, feel free to message me. <em>


	4. Chapter 4

__A new chapter of _Wings_ is on the way.

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><p>Burt sipped at his coffee while he read the Monday morning newspaper only to be disturbed by the obnoxious ring of the doorbell. He wrenched the door out of the way ready to scold the scoundrel who stood behind until he stopped dead in his tracks when he was met face to face with a pair of policemen.<p>

"Can I help you?" Burt asking, knowing that they were there for one sole purpose.

"It's time, Burt. We all know that you wanted Kurt to have some time to settle in, but if we are going to have any chance in hell to catch the people who took him within the next year, we need to have some information."

"He's not ready; he doesn't talk! I- I mean he won't talk to anyone."

"We have to try," the taller of the two pushed, so Burt had no choice but to retrieve Kurt who was still starry-eyed in bed. He kneeled beside the bed, "Kurt there are a couple of policemen hear to talk to you. They are only here to help and I'll be there the entire time."

Kurt tugged on his father's hand before they made it to the living room where the men were waiting, and he motioned a pen scribbling on a pad of paper. After grabbing his son a notepad and pencil, he situation Kurt on the couch next to him while the two men sat across them.

"Kurt, can you describe the man who captured you?"

His hand began instantly, rapidly crossing the paper, his mind in a haze. As soon as he finished, he pulled the paper from the pad and handed it over to the cops, careful to avoid their touch.

_He has dark hair, Mohawk, at least 5'9", blue eyes, deep voice, and pale-skinned._

"Did you ever see his house or car?"

Kurt instantly went back to his pad and wrote for another two minutes.  
><em>He always drove junk cars and traded them in ever three weeks. His basement contained a mattress and a small bathroom. That's where I stayed. I never saw the second floor, but the second floor had a television which I was allowed to watch if I behaved well, and a kitchen where either I or the woman cooked. <em>

"There was a woman where you were being held?"__

_Yes, but sometimes I was away from the house for months. _

"Where did you go when you weren't being held at the house?"

_I was sold for services. Sometimes, women would pay for me to clean and cook. Unlike men, they rarely bought my sexual service. Some of the men I was taken to you treat me very well; they feed me better or were soft, but others were cruel. Sometimes I was gagged and tied up for days at a time._

Burt felt ill as the policemen read the paper out loud. "Kurt, I can take the day off if you need me, but if not, I really should be off to the shop.

Kurt bit into his lip. Was he really getting to choose what he wanted? Kurt wrote on the note and handed it to his father.

"If you are sure," Burt murmured, giving his son's shoulder a soft pat.

I'll be home around six, Finn will be home around three, and Carole will be home around five. If you need anything, my cell phone number is on the refrigerator."

Kurt turned back to men. "Do you know what state and city you were in?"

_Whenever I was being taken somewhere or being picked up, I was always blindfolded. I never saw an address or street name._

"Do you have any idea how you got home?"

_He only spoke once to me, and I never saw his face because I already had my blindfold on. I don't know how he knew where I lived, but when the car finally stopped, he tied my hands together. I thought that he was going to be cruel, but he set me in the snow and told me that I was home. He told me that I had to be careful, that my owner would come for me. _

"Thank you, Kurt, for being so cooperative." The cops stood to leave when one turned back. "You've been in a traumatic situation, and I wanted you to know that you can call me whenever you need to." He handed Kurt a card with the name Officer Denga and a telephone number on it. "If you ever think of something that might give us a lead, have Burt give us a call."

Kurt nodded his thanks and watched the men leave. The house was silent, Kurt had never been left somewhere alone before, and he looked around trying to find something to occupy his time. Once in the kitchen, he found a dishwasher full of clean dishes, and after he had all the eating ware where it belonged, Kurt began a familiar routine of scrubbing the floors.

The hours flew past as Kurt retrieved the clean dishes and set the table properly, found the vacuum, swept the carpeted floors, and made all the beds in the house.

Finn, for once, was happy to go to school on an early Monday in order to escape the horrid reality at home. His mind was clouded during every class despite the fact that he had exams in a few days, and once the day was over, Finn went to Glee where he met up with Rachel.

She kissed him lightly on the cheek, a surprising feat for her small size. "You look tired; is there something on your mind?"

Thinking on for a moment whether he should divulge his new family secret to his girlfriend, Finn shook his head and took a seat next to her. It was an average day in Glee, Mercedes got up in front of the class and sang her usual sassy pop hits and Rachel rested her head on Finn's shoulder.

As soon as Glee was over, Finn loitered around all long as possible, but when Mr. Shuester started to head to his car, Finn couldn't stay at the sanctuary any longer.

Head clouded with scenarios of what he would come home to; Finn found he was lagging behind the wheel with a car easing its way past him. Once he finally pulled into the driveway, his stomach dropped when he realized that neither his mother nor Burt was home for it was only three thirty in the afternoon.

Finally, he couldn't stand the cold, and he entered the house warily.

Kurt, who had been wiping down the counters, heard the door click shut. Glancing at the clock on the stove, according to his father, it must have Finn. He didn't waste a moment; he dropped to the floors for the one less kind of the masters was approaching him.

Heading straight to the kitchen for a snack, Finn froze completely when he took in the sight of the boy sitting upon the floor, his head bowed. The sight angered him, and Finn lashed out at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Kurt took in the harsh words, familiar aspects flooded back, and he felt less alienated than when he had first encountered the young master.

"Stand up and stop acting like an animal," the demand sent Kurt's mind whirling for he did not understand, but he stood nevertheless. "Look at you. Where did you even come from? Can you even understand what I'm saying to you?"

Kurt couldn't keep the questions, which were being shot off at an aggressively rapid pace, straight despite the fact that he did indeed comprehend everyone spoken hence the reason why he stood when told to.

"What are you, a fucking mute? Burt says you're not animal. Prove it, speak!"

The other shook as his quick comfort flamed to alienation for he hadn't been commanded to speak by a master in quite some time. In a flash, he raised his hands.

Panic coursed through Finn when the animal raised his hands, and he raised his own subconsciously for protection. Clear blue eyes met eyes, unblinking and frightened, and suddenly, the thin hands began motion.

Finn froze, his hands still in the air, while he was unable to break away from the boy's hold on him. Those thin hands continued to their movement, and Finn, though he wasn't the brightest, finally realized that Kurt must have been educated; he knew how to speak with his hands as a deaf person would.

Hazed over were his eyes, his hands slowed, and he fell gracefully to where the counter bashed against his head. Finn watched the consequence unfold before his eyes, and at the sound of the thump of the unconscious body hitting the floor.

Breaking out of his daze, Finn quickly yet hesitantly approached Kurt to see a tiny trickle of blood upon the floor, alerting him that the boy had hit his head on the counter hard.

Finn turned him so he was face-up, and he noticed that for the first time, the boy looked completely at peace. His muscles were lacked, and his eyes, always observing – always watching, were closed lightly.

Finn tapped Kurt lightly on the pale hallowed cheek, and tired blue eyes flickered open.

When Kurt realized his position on the floor and the master above him, he froze. "Dude, get up. You're bleeding on the floor."

The weak turned on a dime, and grabbing the brush he had been using to cleanse the tiles before Finn arrived home, he proceeded to scrub at the drying blood. Finn scrambled away watching as he quickly became frustrated and hurried to clean the blood though more barely but still seeped onto the floor until he collapsed, face-down and arms flailed above his head.

Hurriedly, Finn fetched a paper towel and held to his forehead, soaking up the barely there mark. Finn was confused, for that was the second time he had seen the boy pass out; but instead of struggling for an answer, Finn lifted the boy, who was far too light to be healthy, into his arms.

Grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, Finn felt obligated to carry Kurt to his room as well as place the bottle at his bedside accompanied with a note with the simple word, "drink." Before he left the room, Finn peered down to look at the boys once more before he left. Kurt was a child, no animal. He rested soundlessly unlike the night before.__

_A whimper broke Finn's unusual light sleep, and he froze, fearing that the animal once again sat at his bedside. Heavy puffs of frantic breathing teased the fragile atmosphere, and Finn silently turned on his bed, wincing and freezing when his mattress gave a small wheeze, to see if the animal was asleep._

_Stuff the pillow over his head, Finn blocked out the abnormal sounds and slipped almost easily back into the darkness that was sleep. _

By the time Finn settled down in the upstairs living room with a game controller in his hand, Carole was walking through the door scanning the room for Kurt.

"How was your day, Sweetie?" Carole asked though questions about Kurt nagged at her mind.

"Fine," he murmured waiting for the topic to change like he knew it would.

"Were you okay coming home to Kurt by yourself? I know that everything is a bit difficult for you as it is for the rest of us." Lovingly, she combed his fingers through her son's hair.

Something within Finn held him back from divulging the detail of Kurt knowing the language of his hands. "I came home, and he was in the kitchen cleaning. He kneeled with I entered, and I freaked out a little."

"Did you yell at him?" Her voice didn't hold anger or disappointment; however, concern was prominent.

The drop of Finn's head confirmed Carole's suspicions. "We are going to get through this she whispered," seeming to be talking more to herself than to her son.

"He passed out, Mom."

"Where is he now?" Her hand froze, fingers still lodged in gelled locks.

"I took him down to our room, and last I saw, he was sleeping." He looked up to see a small smile lingering on his mother's face.

"I'm proud of you, Finn. That was very responsible of you."

When Kurt woke, he examined his surrounds seeing that he was placed in his bed. A water bottle waited for him with a one-word note – one-word command. As he was told, Kurt opened the bottle and drank heavily from it. His stomach heaved in protest as the liquid filled him, his stomach contracting.

When the bottle was void, Kurt set it back in its place of the nightstand and clutched his stomach.

"Are you okay, Kurt? Finn told me that you fell down and hit your head." Carole avoid proper terms, such as fainting or swooning, in attempt to keep things as normal as possible in a situation such as this.

Kurt wasn't aware that the woman had entered the room, and he tensed on instinct waiting for a command instead of answering the question that seemed to be directed at him. The mattress sunk as she took a seat next to him. "Are you hungry, Sweetie? You can nod or shake your head to answer."

Hungry? He had just eaten the previous evening. He shook his head in response remembering the bloated feeling in his stomach.

"I'm going to be upstairs making dinner. If you need anything, just let me know; and if you decide that you're hungry, feel free to have something. I'll call you up when it's ready. By the way, thank you for setting the table and cleaning around the house; it was unnecessary but a very pleasant surprise."

Before leaving, she warily and slowly with warning ran her fingers through his hair. She wasn't sure if divulging so much to him was a great idea, but the words slipped from her lips. "I'm not here to replace your mommy," she whispered wondering if Kurt truly understood what she was saying. "But that doesn't mean that I can't be here to help you."

"What did you do to him?"

A loud booming voice sounded from upstairs, and hands suddenly clutched at Carole's arm. "Come with me," she soothed. "It'll be okay."

Kurt followed the woman to the living room where Finn and Burt stood at different ends of the room, and Carole felt him relief from his previous rigid state once he saw that it was only his father's voice that had been heard.

"Burt, I came home and he kneeled before me. What did you expect?" It was surprising to see Finn stand against Burt. "He passed out and hit his head. Did I do what should have been done? I took him to our room to rest!"

Rather than countering the Finn's statement, Burt went to his son who bowed his head respectfully. "Are you alright?" His tone was quiet and tender unlike his previous one. Gentle fingers brushed the scratch atop of Kurt's forehead.

In much surprise on Burt's part, Kurt neither flinched away nor whimpered at the pain if the wound was still tender. He took the pain in familiar comfort.

Finn ran a frustrated hand through his hair and lightly brushed past his mother so he could take peace in his room without disturbance hoping that Kurt would not be sent down after him.

"Go on and rest on the couch," he murmured to Kurt, "I need to speak to Carole."

Automatically, Kurt did as he was told, and Burt led Carole into the kitchen. Taking a seat at the table which was still set, Burt dropped his head into his hand, resting heavily upon the table. "What are we doing here, Carole?"

The woman wrapped her arms around him for behind. "Something has to change," she murmured. "We can't let him stay the way he is; he's cooped up in the house and barely responds to anything other than commands. We need a third-party so he'll have someone to interact with."

Burt nodded in agreement and left the kitchen to return the where Kurt sat silently on the couch with his head dipped. Awkward the time spent there was until Carole called them in to dinner.

Food was offered, so of course Kurt took it, knowing that there was always a chance he would be without a meal at anytime.

He much resembled Finn while he ate, hurrying to finish before his meal before someone had the chance to take away his plate.

After dinner, he wordlessly helped Carole clear the table. Much like the day before, after the all the tasks were finished, Kurt wandered down to the shared room to see Finn with a consol controller in his hands.

Thankfully, Finn was too focused on his avatar to notice the odd presence of Kurt who sat rigidly on his bed. The silent boy clutched to his stomach as he had after finishing the bottle of water. Finally, his stomach revolt against him; and he ran to the bathroom, knowing a punishment would ensure later, to empty the contents of his stomach.

Finn jumped up running after him, and he yelled for his mother when he saw Kurt crouching in front of the porcelain bowl.

When Carole followed by Burt finally made it to the bathroom, they saw Finn sitting Indian style with Kurt in his lap. Back pressed to chest, Finn held Kurt still while he shook convulsively. Finn tried to think of how he held Rachel when he got drunk as he attempted to keep the boy calm.

"Okay, just- just hang on to him for a minute," Burt stumbled. "I'm going to call the hospital."

Finn nodded, attempting to focus on anything other than the shivering boy in his arms.

Hush tones could be heard from the basement bedroom. "Yes, this is Burt Hummel. My son has fainted several times in the past two days, and he isn't able to hold food."

"Sir, try to understand from his point of view. He has just come home to a place different to the fantasy of home he remembers as a small child, and he suffered for eleven years unimaginable things that we are still unaware of. Currently, he is going through PTSD, and he can be prescribed medication after he spends some time with a psychologist. Fainting is a common symptom of PTSD, and it is likely to happen when he is either under stress or when he is put in a situation that mimics those he was in during his capture."

"What about the inability to hold his food?"

"When you brought your son to our care, he was severely malnutrition. If he is unable to hold food within the next two days, you need to bring him in to be hospitalized. Since he is unable to hold what I'm assuming solid food. For the first day give him two servings of soup unless he asks for more. Raise the servings every day until he is able to eat three course meals. Also make sure that he stays above the weight of eighty pounds; if he drops below, bring him in immediately."

By the time Burt was finished talking to the nurse who had examined Kurt's medical charts, Finn had gotten Kurt to relax in his arms and back into bed with the assistance of his mother. Sensing that Burt wanted to talk to his son alone, Carole beckoned her son back upstairs.

"Kurt, Christmas is coming up, and I was wondering what you would like? After all these years, I haven't been able to give you all the wonderful things I always dreamed I'd buy for you."  
>Kurt pointed to himself then made a grasping motion with his hands, trying to make what he was asking for simply instead of using sign language.<p>

"You want…" Burt spoke, prompting him for more. Kurt pointed upwards, and it took Burt a moment to register. "You want mom?" Kurt held up one fingering, halting Burt. He made walking motions with his fingers before place his hands under his head.

"You want to go to where Mommy sleeps?" Kurt nodded, and clutched his father's hand. "I promise we'll go together. I- I love you, Kurt."  
>Though Kurt's face was nearly void of emotion, he made a heart with his hands and pressed it to his father's hand.<p>

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><p><em>Please Review!<em>


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